Don't Fuck With America
by GravityHasNoLimit
Summary: Steve likes his coffee black...


**A/N: (Oneshot) I honestly really wanted to explore this pairing. I'm surprised it's not popular.**

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"Do you know what I just realized?" Clark said from the kitchen. Steve perked his head up, his eyes darting away from the newspaper in his hand. His brows went up.

"What?"

Clark pulled the pot out of the coffee maker once he heard it stop brewing. "I know everything you want on your sandwiches. Everything. Smoked ham, two slices of cheddar cheese, no mayo and tomatoes. Yet, I have no idea what to put in your coffee." Steve flashed Clark a smile.

"It's because I make my own coffee."

"Some gentleman I am then, huh." Clark tugged at the two coffee mugs resting on the counters. One of them was a normal, green, cup, while the other was blue that said 'Don't f*ck with America' and had the House of El symbol and Steve's shield on either side of it. Tony got it for both of them as a gift, and although Clark thought he was just playing around, Steve knew he did it to tease them both. Because hey-having two American flags on the team was just too much for the billionaire to handle. Clark poured his coffee in the green mug, grabbed a creamer from the bin next to the coffee maker, and dumped the powder into his cup. He stirred.

"So tell me, what do you prefer in your coffee?" Clark asked Steve, who was still relaxing in his white t-shirt and pajama bottoms, the blonde hairs on his head were ruffled and poked out in different places, which he knew Clark found extremely cute; his back leant against the chair, his calves were crossed and his feet sat on the opposite chair across from him. Steve shook his head.

"Nothing. I like mine black."

"Boyfriend of the year, everyone," Clark said, rather annoyed. God, Steve could hear the eye roll in his voice. "And to think I got so worked up over not knowing what you liked."

Steve watched him carry both mugs in his hands to the table after pouring Steve's coffee. Since Steve's feet occupied the opposite chair, he sat next to him.

"Thanks." Steve said, taking a sip from his cup.

"No problem, but next time you're making me coffee." Steve responded by jerking his thumb up. And then Clark flashed him that stupid, cute, farm boy grin that made Steve want to lunge out at him and kiss his high cheekbones, then his dimples, and his jaw. God, his boyfriend was adorable.

"What's happening today?" Clark asked, edging over to look at the newspaper.

Steve shrugged. "Nothing, really. Everything I've read so far is concerned with sports and ads."

"How exciting."

"Tell me about it. Headlines, headlines," Clark's chair screeched when he dragged it against the wooden floor. He stopped once he was sitting right next to Steve.

"Can I help you?" Steve asked, only glancing at the man. Clark leaned forward and brushed his nose against Steve's. He lifted a brow, Clark responded by kissing him on the cheek.

"You should shower," He said. Steve turned his head causing Clark to have to pull his nose away. He kissed his left dimple.

"Only if you join me."

"I'd rather not catch your stench."

"I'm hurt."

Clark kissed his nose. "Drink your coffee." They both laughed. Steve brought his hand up to Clark's nape and then ran his fingers through his thick curls. He kissed the one hanging over his forehead before bringing Clark's head down to meet his lips. He eagerly responded, looping his arm around Steve's back and resting his hand on his shoulder. Their noses brushed, he tilted his head making Clark slide his tongue into his mouth.

_God_, kissing Clark was like...

He was always so gentle but then passionate when he needed to be. Even when they had short amounts of time, like right now, he was calm, yet still had a fiery sense when they kissed. Steve's blonde strands pressed against Clark's dark curls, their hands on each other's torsos, their tongues clashing. Steve was surprised he hadn't lost his mind by now. He could only imagine Clark felt the same way.

Clark only pulled away for a second. "You taste like coffee," He took a hold of Steve's chin. "Black," he kissed him again. "bland," again, "tasteless," again, "coffee."

Steve smiled against the other man's lips. "You don't seem to mind," Clark brushed a thumb over his cheek, Steve leaned into his hand and smiled.

"Baby, your breath could smell like Nat's roasted potatoes and I wouldn't mind," Steve chuckled. Clark's hand cupped the back of his head and he kissed Steve's temple. "You know, I think I've changed my mind about that shower."

The other man's brow rose and he slid his hand over Clark's chest.

"Get it on then, farm boy."

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**A/N: Gahhh, why doesn't put this (*) in the title?!**


End file.
